Stepping over the threshold of the Burrow, something didn't feel right. Ron couldn't quite put his finger on what exactly it might be, but the feeling was there nevertheless. An itchy, crawling sort of feeling at the base of your spine that radiated out and made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Something he'd felt enough times in the past to know potential danger was only a few steps away.
Wand drawn and senses now on high alert, he crept silently through the house, ears straining to hear any little noise. Despite the brightness of the day, the interior was dark, gloomy, abandoned.
Scanning the room, his eyes happened upon the family clock hanging slightly askew on the wall. Two names pointed to Home.
What the fuck? he thought, as his eyes narrowed into angry slits.
"PERCY!" Ron bellowed and dropped back into the darkest shadow, his body now taut as a bow string and ready to strike. "Get your arse out here, you fucking piece of shit!"
Percy held his wand tightly in his hand, though he kept it pointing toward the ground. He slowly stood up from his crouched position. Ron looked livid; though, it mirrored Percy's own feelings at the moment. He narrowed his eyes at Ron in return. He did his best to look intimidating; but that was always difficult to do with glasses he'd learned. "Watch your language," Percy shouted. He flushed at the admonishment; but it was really a force of habit.
Percy walked slowly around the chair he'd been using to shield himself from view. He flourished his wand to make sure Ron saw he had it - but nothing more. "Oh, I'll show my self. But you had best be prepared to defend yourself, Ronald. I - how could you?" Percy nearly looked over his shoulder to see who was shouting so angrily; he was taken aback when he realized it was he who was indeed yelling.
"How could I what? Not kill you on the spot?" he snarled, equally surprised and thoroughly hacked off at the absolute nerve of Percy. He wouldn't call him his brother. Not anymore. Not after what he'd done.
His wand now trained on the other man, Ron's anger climbed to new heights. The smug, twitchy little bastard. Coming here of all places when he knew he wasn't welcome anymore and telling him to watch his language, like he was the parent and not Prefect Percy, Ministry toady and modern day Judas.
"I should, you know. The world wouldn't miss you."
"Kill me? I'm hardly worried about that," Percy said, dryly. Though he took a step to the side anyway as he leveled his own wand at his brother. He felt torn between wanting to hex him into the middle of next year and wanting to wrap his arms around him in a fierce embrace. He stifled both desires in favor of taking Ron to task for his largest failing to date.
"How could you leave Mum and Father's graves like that? All weedy and overgrown and - No one's ever been there! How could you lot do that to them? Leave it to me to clean up your mess as always," he spat. "Fucking typical."
Ron blinked, momentarily taken aback. Graves? He knew of no graves. And if he did... well, he and Ginny and Charlie and Bill certainly wouldn't have let them fall into disrepair.
"Oh stop acting like everyone owes you a favour, Percy," Ron snapped with irritation, and stepped out of the shadows. He still had half a mind to curse him into oblivion, and if Percy pushed the envelope much further, he'd gladly do it.
"Mum and Dad don't have graves... so not only are you a traitor, you're also a liar," he stated bluntly, not willing to budge an inch until he had solid proof.
Comments 22
Wand drawn and senses now on high alert, he crept silently through the house, ears straining to hear any little noise. Despite the brightness of the day, the interior was dark, gloomy, abandoned.
Scanning the room, his eyes happened upon the family clock hanging slightly askew on the wall. Two names pointed to Home.
What the fuck? he thought, as his eyes narrowed into angry slits.
"PERCY!" Ron bellowed and dropped back into the darkest shadow, his body now taut as a bow string and ready to strike. "Get your arse out here, you fucking piece of shit!"
Reply
Percy walked slowly around the chair he'd been using to shield himself from view. He flourished his wand to make sure Ron saw he had it - but nothing more. "Oh, I'll show my self. But you had best be prepared to defend yourself, Ronald. I - how could you?" Percy nearly looked over his shoulder to see who was shouting so angrily; he was taken aback when he realized it was he who was indeed yelling.
Reply
His wand now trained on the other man, Ron's anger climbed to new heights. The smug, twitchy little bastard. Coming here of all places when he knew he wasn't welcome anymore and telling him to watch his language, like he was the parent and not Prefect Percy, Ministry toady and modern day Judas.
"I should, you know. The world wouldn't miss you."
Reply
"How could you leave Mum and Father's graves like that? All weedy and overgrown and - No one's ever been there! How could you lot do that to them? Leave it to me to clean up your mess as always," he spat. "Fucking typical."
Reply
"Oh stop acting like everyone owes you a favour, Percy," Ron snapped with irritation, and stepped out of the shadows. He still had half a mind to curse him into oblivion, and if Percy pushed the envelope much further, he'd gladly do it.
"Mum and Dad don't have graves... so not only are you a traitor, you're also a liar," he stated bluntly, not willing to budge an inch until he had solid proof.
Reply
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